


Or Perhaps It's Christmas Magic

by lemonlawlarry



Category: One Direction
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonlawlarry/pseuds/lemonlawlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Styles and Tomlinson family are both famous in their neighbourhood for the best Christmas lights ever, but who will win this year? </p><p>DISCLAIMER - I WROTE THIS IN 2013 SO IT IS UTTER BOLLOCKS, IT'S JUST UP HERE BECAUSE IM SENTIMENTAL (◡‿◡✿)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or Perhaps It's Christmas Magic

This happens every year. Not because we're massively into Christmas or anything. My Dad hated Christmas so when he ditched us Mum made us help her deck the house out. We stuck out like a sore thumb. Until they moved in. Mum and Lottie call them our rivals. That's bullshit but if it works, it works. The Styles family have a passion for Christmas. However, the Tomlinson family have a need for winning. 

So that's how we got here. Mum being instructed by Lottie as to which string of lights to put where. Fiz rocking Doris and Ernest as Phoebe and Daisy attempt at blowing up some big snowman thing. "Join in, would you, Lou?" I sighed as I threw Lottie another ring of lights. She's always helping out. I try, I really do but half the time I don't have enough energy. Juggling school and two part time jobs to pay for part of that education. Mum always wants the best for us. And that's cute and I love her to pieces but sometimes I just wish she'd take a break. The ring of lights came flying back like a boomerang and landed in an uneven puddle in front of me. "Those are tree lights," she announced, eyebrows raised, like this was common knowledge, "try again." I rolled my eyes at her as a flung her another ring of pink lights. Two thumbs up were thrown at me as if to say 'well done' like I was some kind of dog. Sitting here, on the wall of the house I grew up in, makes me feel a bit dizzy. The sense of family is strong but not strong enough. I always felt lonely here and I think I still do. I preferred summer. Going to parks and pushing the twins up and down on the swings. Shit. That's a problem now too. You can't say 'the twins' because there's two now. Wow. 

A creek threw me out of my day dream as the Styles family flooded out of their working-class, festive-filled cave of happiness. They lived in a working class house in a working class neighbourhood but by god, the Styles family - at Christmas at least - dressed like they had just come out of the Milan fashion week. I'd never seen them all together. I thought I had, but I hadn't. Every year it was the three of them. But this year it was the three of them and what looked like a mop. "Who's your little mop friend?" I shouted over the two brick walls and the small road that separated us and a family of over-excited cleaning utensils. The sister - who's name I think is Gemma - cackled from their front garden. Which she was rewarded with a small push from her Mum. The mop creation stalked it's way across the road with a quick swish each way so it didn't get flattened by a car. 

And then it hit me. The most beautiful god-like man looked up and pushed his hand out of his jacket. "It's Harry, and I'd rather look like a mop than a shelter dog" fuck. Well. Is it bad that right now I wanted to shag a mop. A fiesty mop at that. He'd blushed bright red and his family setting up the step ladders to put up the lights were laughing behind him. And Lottie. I bet she thinks he's cute. And she's right. "Mop," was all I managed to get out as my face blushed red and I was so caught up in his eyes that I nearly drowned. He leaned slightly across the wall and I felt myself leaning too. He leaned past me and yet he was still taller than me. "I didn't mean it, babe, I think you're actually pretty damn cute," he whispered before dragging his tall self back up into his already half done garden. 

Harry. Cute name. Cute face. Cute. Harry. I spun back round and my eyes met with a blushing Lottie. Her face froze when I mouthed to her "mine."

**Author's Note:**

> this was a quick thing and I know it's not Christmas but I hope you liked it anyway x


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